This Trio met in France (Ms. Gold Sponge, the singer, met Cantin, guitarist, opening his show in Nice mid-tour). After playing guitars together until the sun broke, the two musically met throughout Europe during the next seasons, enduring bizarre label parties and fancy affairs together with their complimentary playful and devilish attitudes. The creative affair was kept alive through Montreal's winter, where the trio was made complete---collaborating with Cristobal Tapia, beat-maker. The explosive energy delivered, in a fluid span of three weeks the skeleton for their record formed.

The songs are cinematic novelettes bent in morbidity with lyrics daring to create sing-song opportunity around issues typically ignored in the world of vocal composition/expression: Song topics range from Priests with Young Boys, Holocausts of everyone with the surname "Smith", Queen Elizabeth (who, after bottles of wine, mistakingly was made the stand-in for Catherine The Great, as the song outlines the legendary bestial tale of Catherine's affair with her beloved horse) and the tune CocoaPapatee, a mythical island where anarchy reigns, and "old men sleep with little girls" and people shoot multiple guns, and pollute without penalty. Through the whimsicality of the record's content, something more profound is suggested: the idea of Sociopathic Freedom Pop.

LES SMITH

I'm the most sought-aftersociopathi was trained to killby the cereal

not like your Kix and PopsI'm the real cyclopseach day i scratch the listand rid the world of Smiths

Cuz I'm the most sought-aftersociopaththe most kept anonymousnon-automo-tonomousi pull the tricksand rid the world of Smithsare you ready boys?(oh yes ma'am please)

It's so fun on Thursdaywe do the R'sand after I get 'em I grab their gold starsRay Raymond Reginald SmithRemington Rubin Rex Rico SmithRingo John Paul and Yoko SmithRodney Dangerfield Russell Crowe SmithRorey and Rupert SmithYea, and Romeo SmithRhett Butler Smithcuz damn he's so fine

and we gotJoshcuz we hate Josh SmithSteve,

we never liked Steve Smith….

BETH

Queen Elizabeth on a horse of courseit's her perogotivejust cuz she could not get a divorceshe went and jumped on the big stallionand that's just what she did because she felt like a million bucksbut no one couldtouch her umn woodso she got it from the horsebut just cuz she could

cuz she was the queenand you know what that meansand in the 7th grade history classthat's how we heard the themeabout her and she wasdefinitely the only womanother than Joan of Arcthat we could haveunderstoodit was like torturewhen she got on the horseit felt so goodshe felt like she shouldbut then later onwhen the ropes breakthe horse fell on herit was like earth quake

it was like tortureevery time she felt his pulseit was like herheart jumped because she felt him fully.he was her horseand she wanted him of coursebut she couldn't have himbecause she could not get divorcedfrom the king

that shit is really fuckedif you want to love an animal well i wish you luck

just like Queen Elizabethshe couldn't find a truckso she rolled out of townon a wild buckshe loved her horse

so Queen Elizabethshe loved her horseshe couldn't find a manto fulfill her so of courseshe had him mountedshe was lying underneathand when they cut the ropesthey broke the queen

it was like torturefrom the one she lovedhe was such a stallionand for her he was aboveeverything she had knowneven that kingbecause he was so busy trying to fightwars and peacehe was obliviousof her needsif that horse had peace it was becausehe was ​not so mean

he was a fat fat machine for loveand when the reins brokeshe was smooshed to pieces

it was tortureQueen Elizabethunderneath a big fat horseshe was smooshed to deathfrom the big fat stallionit was like a million dollars but thenit was a million poundscuz it was bling blingwhen she had the horsefall on top of herit was cuz she could not divorcethe kingcuz she really wanteda big fat stallion toride herhe was mountedon the day she diedthe horse ker-ploppedand he fell on to her frameand then her love was stumped

I love you deeplyI wanna pay yoube on my crewtrue bluealways newyeanever the same shit twice

Never look againI found my special manYou get two weeks of paid vacationyeaMy lawyer'll make you fat contractyou'll get yourself free from debt

before you even started with me yet.

DEAD MAN

"This here's a ol'-time song 'bout borin'-ass so-and-so who killed a real lady with his cannon or magnum 45 or whatever. She was all 'fiddle-dee-dee-- you can't really kill me', I mean how could a dead man kill anything real That'd be like a walking zombie, ain't no sensation there. Like some ol' head-on-a-stick, something a child might like; I mean, maybe he was a little bit contagious but it wasn'tnothin' that a good dose of the moon, herself, couldn't fix."

You can't scare me with the dark, Fucker.I ain't afraid.

Where-ever I've gone, foolI'm glad to be on to a worldwithout you. Anyway.

And I don't need to tell you nothin'but I will, Fucker.

Just cuz I'm that kind of kind.I gave up my blood,you blew out my gutsbut I gotPeace of Mind.

So you can Smoke My AssFuckerDo I look like I give a fuckhow you roll?

Low-style drag me to the trashfeed it to the ratsyou'll still be the dead manwith no soul.

You'llstill be the dead manwithout soul,Fucker.

GET ME OFF

Intro: "You love my fucking love handles, bitch!"

Get me off of the trainoff the plane off the bus.

Get me out of the bedoff the webof the bar.

Get me off of the shipout of the townoff the ground.

Get me off of the trainoff the trackoff the bar.

Get me out of the poolof the carof the school.

Get me off of this fooloff the railof the bus.

Get me out of the roadof the shipof the job.

the camion de pompier.

Get me off of the pillowoff the joboff the plane.

Get me off of the ambulance!Get me off the ambulanceand the camion de pompier!

Get me off of the trainoff the plane off the bus.

Get me out of the bedoff the webof the bar.

Get me out of the shipof the townoff the ground.

Get me out of the jailoff the trackoff the bar.

Get me off!

Get me off of the train.

Take me off of the ambulance!Take me off of the ambulance!

Get me out of the schooloff the pillowthe school.

Get me off of this foolof the planeoff the bus.

Get me off of this roadoff the shipof this truck.

Of the camion du pompier.

Get me off of the pillowoff the groundof the town.

Get me off of the lazyboythe trainand the plane.

Get me off of the paperboy!Get me off of the paperboy!

The camion du pompier.

Get me off of the fellowoff the trainoff the plane.

Get me off of the ambulance!Get me off of the ambulance!

The camion du pompier.

Get me off.Get me off.

FONQ SKONQ

My boy is a faggot I'm a lesbian magnethe's got a lot of problems but no diseasewolverine grey eyeshe's uncircumcizedone touch of the thumper you'll be a pillow humperyea.

GUANTANAMO

Left at the heightof the party in townto get myself some airlaid down on the groundand i said to my loveif you were here i wouldn't even know you were therecuz i'm so intoxicated.

Looking at the skyI fell into the starsthey were asking me"where do you think you are"and i said"i dreamed i was on teamwith Kareem Abdul Jabbarand he gave me the keys to hishouse boat off of Tijuana..."and I knowI didn't call you mommayes i knowbut I'm on my way home.I'm on my way home.

I was staring at the skyand fell into the starsthey were asking me"where do you think you are?"and I said"I'm on my way down south, sugarmore south than El Segundo more south than Haiti, honeymore south than Guantanamo Bay, baby..."

And i let go of all my inner-prisonerslistening to my records 'Round Midnight, Wayne Shorter, On The Corner, Dexter GordonI got back to what's importantthere's a big brass band in my bonesI'm on my way home.

Took off at the heightof the party in townrang out my last blueslaid down on the groundand i slurred to my heroslooking at the starsI'm barely here but i'm notfar from where you are.

& Don't think for a secondI forget to creditall the ones who sweat itall the gamblers in itall the ones who bet iton the strings and on the skinsblowing on the wind on one long tone

I'm on my way homeI'm on my way...

(you taught me how to want it)

WHEN THE PRIEST

"Well little boys and girls I have to tell you an old fable. It's like a nativity scene---the kind from Christmas--- but a little more real--- ain't no 'divine conception' that shit was bullshit designed to make sex seem wrong, designed to make vaginas look dirty.Like the world savior could only come by Immaculate Conception!Real Vaginas exist, and they fuck and they bleed and they make babies.So watch out---Watch It!"

He felt so religiousbut persuaded and ambiguous.Intentions by a divine intervention,the Priest, who felt his tension releasedwhen touched the unfettered flesh with his touch.

And that's how a youngster as nouveau as a sturgeon left from the church no longer a virgin.He left from the church no longer a virgin.

When he came home to his mother he regarded her as Mary.He looked down at his partsthey were not yet hairy.He felt confused, but not used;and almost with satisfaction.Better than the children touched by Michael Jackson.

He felt a cold coming on,by not an allergen.when he left from the churchhe was no longer a virgin.

Later he was clericalnever hysterical.Memories of handson his bum,assured the priest that he would cum.

The priest cum on the face of the young boyand still the world goes round.Homie it's a profession,

You're free to lootkill a manyou can prostitutelive in a trashcanThey don't give a shiton Cocoa Papeteeit's real Anarchyand that meansyou can feel, Motherfucker!

and you can screamand you can look ugly.

you can jump aroundand you can move your hipsand you don't have to be symmetrical and shit.you don't have to sound goodor look like some… anything at all.You can stick your hand in your butt.You can stay up 'til 6 o'clock in the morning,the sun sets all day long.

Cocoa PapeteeYou go to PapeteeYou can free-verse anything you wantit don't need to be rehearsedand so you might say some thingsyou might regret later.